Now known as classic soul, the black soul music of the '60s and '70s is back! Over the past few years, I have gradually stopped purchasing black popular music, urban contemporary, rap or whatever these genres are called. (There are few accurate ways to describe what has simply become uninteresting and unappealing.)

To fill the gap in my collection that might be occupied by misogynistic men, hypersexual women or people who just cannot sing without the help of technology and a great producer, I am now purchasing the very same soul music that I find in my parents' collection of vinyl LPs.

The high quality of the body of work of black soul musicians in the '60s and '70s never fails to impress me. I have personally collected the music of such widely known greats as Stevie Wonder, The Supremes and The Spinners, as well as equally deserving but less commonly recognized artists such as Bobby Womack, Arthur Alexander and Phyllis Hyman.

But I am certainly not alone in this mini-revolution in popular culture. Presumably disgusted by the consistent low quality and objectionable content of some music, my favorite radio station in New York City changed its format in 1995, and is now exclusively playing classic soul. Immediately before the changes, 98.7 Kiss-FM was consistently the top-rated radio station in the New York Metropolitan area. I am inclined to believe that their decision was artistically motivated and, if I may borrow the colloquial, not all about the Benjamins.

Not all the news is bad news. There are several major artists out there who still use their creative instincts to make moving music. But there are not enough of these musicians to convince me that this generation of black pop artists is leaving behind a legacy of popular music that stands on its own creative merit and does not contain elements from other artists' work.

Of course, some of the same people who made that great music in the past are still working hard today. Curtis Mayfield, who was paralyzed in a tragic stage accident in Brooklyn in 1990, is certainly the most inspiring example. His album New World Order, released in 1996, showed everyone that it was the younger generation that was truly handicapped.

Many people, both young and old, definitely feel that contemporary black music is missing something special. Black people could always claim they were still leaders in the production of creative capital, even when they were marginalized from the political, economic and social order.

By letting that historical legacy fade, black artists do a disservice to posterity. Just think, 30 years from now, when your kids flip through your CD collection, what do you want them to hear--"Let A Playa Get His Freak On" or "Mighty Love"?